


Feels Like Flying

by Amelia_Clark



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Sex, Birthdays, F/M, M/M, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Polyamory, Recreational Drug Use, Shameless Smut, Vaginal Sex, also a fat kittycat wanders through, just a lot of sex y'all
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-31
Updated: 2017-08-31
Packaged: 2018-12-21 22:40:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,782
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11954175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amelia_Clark/pseuds/Amelia_Clark
Summary: Castiel doesn't usually have sex with both of his partners at once. Which would be the first bullet point included in the imaginary pamphlet he wished he could hand out to nosy strangers and friends: “All Your Inappropriate Questions About Polyamory Answered, Now Fuck Off & Leave Me Alone.” He and Dean and Meg weren't a triad—in fact, the others weren't even really friends. But this would be the first time since Castiel started dating both of them that Meg was in town on his birthday, and while he was initially hesitant to broach the subject of a threesome, they both surprised him by being open.





	Feels Like Flying

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [SPN Rare Ship Creations Challenge.](http://rareshipcreationschallenge.tumblr.com/)  
> Prompt: prank gifts  
> Partner: [@theydraggedmein](https://theydraggedmein.tumblr.com/)

Castiel doesn't usually have sex with both of his partners at once. Which would be the first bullet point included in the imaginary pamphlet he wished he could hand out to nosy strangers and friends: “All Your Inappropriate Questions About Polyamory Answered, Now Fuck Off & Leave Me Alone.” He and Dean and Meg weren't a triad—in fact, the others weren't even really friends. But this would be the first time since Castiel started dating both of them that Meg was in town on his birthday, and while he was initially hesitant to broach the subject of a threesome, they both surprised him by being open.

“Are you kidding? I'd love to have you both, if Deano's down,” Meg says when he mentions it. She's sprawled half-naked across a motel bed in Denver; her peripatetic job as a flight attendant had indirectly prompted them to open up the relationship in the first place, before Castiel even met Dean. Meg admitted to picking up a guy on the road, telling Castiel she loved him but missed the thrill of sex with someone new—Castiel was devastated until he realized her feelings for him hadn't changed, and that his hadn't either. Their revised arrangement saved him a lot of guilt later when he found himself falling for Dean. A year later, he and Dean share an apartment and a plump, bossy cat, while Meg has an ever-shifting roster of casual partners across the country and Skypes him a couple times a week to share terrible Tinder bios, rant about misogyny, and get off.

“I haven't asked him yet. I knew you'd be the easier sell, he's pretty monogamous at heart.”

“Well, here's hoping,” she says with a smirk. Wiggling out of her panties, she grabs her Hitachi from the nightstand and spreads her legs wide for the webcam; Castiel licks his lips at the sight. “Don't tell Dean, but I've wanted to fuck him senseless since you two first hooked up. That pretty mouth looks like it can do amazing things. Now, where were we?” She flicks a switch, and the vibrator buzzes to life; Castiel smiles and tugs his pants to his knees.

After dinner, he brings it up to Dean as they're doing the dishes. “Sure, why not?” Dean says with a shrug, rinsing the suds from a newly clean plate. “I'm not Meg's biggest fan, but if she's OK with it and it's what you want, I'm good.” 

“Dean, I don't want you to grit your teeth and do it for my sake. If you're not attracted to Meg, you shouldn't have sex with her just because I'm turning thirty.”

Dean snorts. “I never said I wasn't attracted to her—I ain't blind, dude, your girlfriend's hot. Just cause our personalities clash sometimes doesn't mean we wouldn't be good in bed together. Only one way to find out.”

Castiel puts down the glass he's washing and pulls Dean in for a kiss. “You're so good to me.”

Dean slaps Castiel's ass with the dishtowel. “Damn straight, baby. And don't you forget it.”

*******

Meg shows up bearing a gift bag, airline-branded like most of her possessions, and shoves it into Castiel's arms when he opens the door. “Happy birthday, angelcakes,” she says, pecking his cheek. “Hey, Dean.” Dean waves from the couch.

“Meg, you shouldn't have!” Castiel protests. The bag is heavy and solid, maybe a bottle of something? “You know I prefer experiences over things, and we're definitely having an experience tonight.”

She waggles her eyebrows as she drapes her leather jacket over a chair. “Oh, you bet your extremely sweet ass we are, angel. This is for tonight, too, kinda—I know you're weird about presents cause all you ever got as a kid was Bibles and shit, but I saw this and thought of you.”

He eyes the bag suspiciously. “It's a dildo, isn't it. Two cocks aren't enough for you, you had to bring more?”

“I'm hurt that you think I'm so predictable, Castiel. Although you're warm, to be honest. Just open it, I'd like to get this party started.”

Castiel paws through tissue paper until he uncovers an...object. “What on Earth is this, Meg?”

“What do you think it is?”

“I _think_ it's a bong shaped like a dick.”

She aims double finger guns and winks. “Bingo, hot stuff. You gotta trust your instincts.”

“This made you think of me.”

“You're a bisexual stoner, of _course_ it did. C'mon, let's spark it up and get laced.”

“I haven't smoked out of a bong in a decade!”

“I've never smoked out of a bong,” says Dean, and when Castiel turns to him with wide eyes, “What! I didn't go to college like you two, I rolled joints outta shake and happy to get it.”

“Oh, honey, you are gonna get _baked_ then,” says Meg, grinning. “I'll bet it'll be adorable.”

Castiel retrieves his stash from the linen closet and packs a bowl, then tries to hand it off to Meg, who shakes her head—“Oh no, you do the honors, put that big ol' dick in your mouth”—so he hits it first, closing his eyes as the sickly-sweet smoke curls into his lungs, clouds his head with calm. Meg nods in satisfaction and takes it from him, slipping her lips unnecessarily far over the glass shaft, and passes it to Dean.

Two hits in, Dean's flat on his back on the living room floor, well past giggles into helpless gasps. He's kind of a lightweight when it comes to weed—usually Castiel's the one who smokes after work to relax, while Dean has a beer or a slug of whiskey on the rocks. 

“Mmm, you are adorable,” says Meg, pushing him with her foot—she's curled up next to Castiel on the couch. Dean tries to frown at her and fails utterly, his handsome face breaking into a grin that crinkles the corners of his eyes. “I am going to ruin you,” Meg announces. “I'm going to ruin him, that okay?” she says to Castiel, then nips his earlobe.

“Nah,” Dean manages to say, “nah, 's'Cas's day, the big three oh, he should be the one who gets ruined. In a good way, Cas! In a good way.” He regards them with glazed eyes. “Jesus God, you're hot, both of you. I can't believe I get to fuck you.”

“If you don't fall asleep first,” says Castiel. 

“You'll have to keep me up, then! Heh. Up.” Dean unbuckles his belt and arches up to pull it out of his jeans. “Gimme a reason to stay alert, I mean. Kiss or something.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Meg murmurs, and leans in towards Castiel's mouth. He responds eagerly, nipping at her lower lip, sticks his hand under her V-neck top to fondle her bare breasts; Meg only ever wears a bra at work. She scooches closer, tongue twining with his, and starts unbuttoning his shirt. Dean whimpers from the floor.

“Holy shit,” he says, sitting up and pushing Castiel's knees apart, hands sliding slowly up his thighs. “I don't know whether to watch or get in on this.”

Meg pulls away from Castiel's mouth long enough to say, “Join in, Deano. Seeing you with that fake dick, I wanna see you with a real one. Of course, if that's what Castiel wants.”

Castiel looks down at Dean, at his feet ready to serve, and smiles. “Yeah, suck my cock, Dean. Show Meg what a good boy you are.”

Dean blushes at the praise, not meeting Castiel's eyes. “Don't mind if I do,” he says, already unzipping Castiel's jeans, one hand moving down to massage his balls through the denim. Meg bites at Castiel's collarbone and reaches to help Dean take out his cock, hard and throbbing; she runs her thumb over the head while Dean licks up the shaft.

Head falling back with a groan, Castiel grabs at Dean's hair, thrusting up gently while Dean's beautiful mouth takes him in, deep and wet. Dean gives great head, and he's learned Castiel's responses thoroughly; between Dean's blowjob and Meg's hands roaming his chest, he's dizzy with arousal, heightened by the effects of the pot. He's about to tell Dean to stop, he's gonna come ahead of schedule, when Dean pulls off with a slurp and blurts suddenly, “Meg, I wanna eat you out, can I?”

She tips her head onto Castiel's shoulder and looks down at Dean, kiss-swollen lips curving into a smirk. “That depends. Are you as good with pussy as you are with dick?”

“It's been a couple years, but I always got good reviews. And I kinda miss it.”

Instead of answering, Meg takes off her shirt and tosses it at Dean, who catches it and grins again. “Is that a yes?”

Castiel tousles Dean's hair. “If you want pussy, my love, pussy you shall have. But let's go into the bedroom so Lady Bracknell can't interrupt.”

At the sound of her name, the round little Siamese yawns, stretches, and hops off the kitchen table where she's been snoozing; she saunters over to rub her face on Dean's flank, purring mightily. “Sorry, L.B., this is people stuff, not for kitties,” he says, scritching between her chocolate-colored ears. Ignoring him (of course), she commences a butt wiggle, clearly preparing to jump onto Castiel's exposed lap; he stands up hastily to prevent her from doing so, and she meows, offended. Dean laughs and scoops her up, carries her like a fat furry baby as the three of them head for the bedroom; he deposits her gently outside and shuts the door behind them. She yells her displeasure briefly before shutting up, probably to go have another nap on the warm couch.

Castiel takes care of his own clothes while Meg relieves Dean of his shirt; Dean pulls her into a kiss and works a hand into her pants. “No panties either, huh?” he says, fingers flexing under the denim. “You're gonna get your jeans all wet.”

“Meg really only wears panties at work,” says Castiel, stepping up behind her and cupping her breasts with both hands.

“Mmm,” she says, “I knew they'd be a waste of time. That's nice, Deano, you can keep doing that. Let's give the birthday boy a show.”

They make out for a bit, Castiel watching over Meg's shoulder, before Dean growls and seizes her hips, urging her onto the bed and tugging her jeans off. She lets her knees fall apart, but he doesn't dive in right away, lazily gliding the pad of his thumb up and down her damp folds until she widens her thighs further in invitation; Dean makes a strangled noise and thrusts a finger into her, then lowers his head to lick at her clit.

“Oh hell, you _are_ a good boy,” she says, pressing his face into her and grinding up into his mouth. “Ah, _fuck.”_

Dean hums happily and lets her ride his face; the sounds they're both making—Meg panting and whimpering as Dean slurps at her messily like he's eating an overripe peach—are so fucking hot Castiel actually closes his eyes for a second to hear better. That doesn't last long, though, and soon he's standing behind Dean as he pulls his pants down...and then huffs out a breath like he's been punched in the stomach, because Dean _is_ wearing panties, black lace ones that are doing wonders for his already-irresistible ass. “Holy shit, Dean,” Castiel says reverently, snapping the waistband.

“Wha?” Dean lifts his head and looks back at Castiel, face glistening. “Oh, right, I forgot I had those on. Happy birthday?”

“Happy birthday indeed,” Castiel says, squeezing Dean's butt cheek. “I think I'm gonna leave these on, take your ass while she's got your mouth.”

Meg's eyes fly open at that. “Yes, please,” she says, “oh God, eat him out while he's eating me out, please.”

Castiel pulls Dean's panties to one side and rubs at his perineum. “Would you like that, Dean? My tongue and fingers in your ass while you've got a face full of pussy?”

Dean groans and spreads his legs for Castiel. “Hell yeah, Cas. Open me up, fuck me.” Meg clicks her tongue, impatient, and shoves Dean's face between her thighs again.

Grabbing the lube from where it's already out on the nightstand, Castiel bends down to sink his teeth into Dean's ass. “You look so good in these panties, Dean, you should wear them more often.” Kneeling at the foot of the bed, he kisses the bite mark gently before running his tongue over Dean's hole, licking slowly but surely until Dean's pushing back at his mouth, moaning in chorus with Meg as her back arches off the bed.

And Castiel loses himself for a while: in the familiar heat of Dean's body, in Dean's muffled moans, in the sight of Meg laid out like a banquet, her knuckles white where they clutch at Dean's hair. When she comes, lifting her pelvis six inches off the mattress as she bucks into Dean's mouth, she almost kicks Castiel in the face; he seizes her ankle with the hand not currently half-buried in Dean's hole. “Watch it,” he warns. She just shakes with silent laughter, too breathless to make noise.

Dean gives her a minute to recover before bending his head back to work, tongue gently circling her clit as she makes gulping little gasps—as soon as Castiel rolls on a condom and slowly sinks into him, though, Dean's rhythm falters, stops. “Oh shit, baby,” he mumbles, reaching back blindly to grab at Castiel's hip. “So good. I want it hard, come on.”

Castiel does his best to oblige, getting one knee up on the bed for leverage; Meg props herself up on her elbows to watch, one hand drifting between her legs to tease at her spit-soaked pussy. “Fuck him, Castiel, fuck him harder, this is like the hottest thing I've seen in _years,”_ she pants, and comes again with a cry. She yanks down the front of Dean's panties to stroke his cock, and his forehead drops to her stomach with a groan.

“Waitaminute,” says Dean suddenly, “waitaminute, Cas, you wanna fuck her too? I mean she's so wet, you'll just slide in like, like—oh man, right there—you feel so fucking awesome but I don't wanna be greedy. I wanna see it, though, wanna see your dick going in and out.”

Meg smirks. “Do you, Dean? Well, you've put me in a generous mood, if Castiel's got the stamina now that he's an old man.”

“Bite your tongue, Meg,” says Castiel, “I've got more than enough left to make you come one more time, I think. How should we—logistics, they're confusing.”

“Here,” Dean says, “here, come up on the bed with us.” Pulling out, Castiel puts on a new condom and lets Dean arrange them: Meg and Castiel on their sides, facing each other, Dean at Meg's back. She slings a leg high over Castiel's waist and guides him into her—he thrusts in roughly, watching Dean bite his lip as he stares.

Everything's pretty quick after that. Dean lubes up his own cock and moves closer behind Meg to fuck between her thighs, head nudging against the base of Castiel's dick; Castiel kisses him frantically over Meg's shoulder, kisses Meg, moans in the back of his throat as the two of them mouth at him in a clumsy triangular kiss. He's honestly not sure who comes first, but his orgasm shorts out his vision for a second, and when he blinks back to awareness his whole body is buzzing, the green of Dean's eyes so vivid it's dazzling.

He tosses the condom in the general direction of the trashcan and waits for his pounding heart to slow down. “This was—thank you,” he says. “Unforgettable.”

“You're telling me,” says Meg. “I don't wanna make a big thing of it, but I'd do it again in a heartbeat. Like in the morning, if you wanted.”

“Yes,” says Castiel, slapping her ass, reaching back to run his fingers over Dean's hole. “I want you to sit on my face while Dean rides me.”

“Hell,” says Dean, “it's only eight p.m., give me an hour and a half till the pot wears off, you got it.”

Castiel doesn't usually have sex with both of his partners at once, it's true—and he can't see Meg and Dean actually going on a date anytime soon. But in the morning, they fuck again—and a few weeks later, again—and soon, every time Meg's in town.

His thirties are going to be _incredible_.


End file.
